Marked
by insomniakitty
Summary: Plucked from her ordinary life, Joanna has no idea which way to turn or what is the truth. Kirsten struggles with a forbidden love as she searches for her best friend. Alex hides a frightening secret. ORIGINAL CHARACTERS IN CASSANDRA CLARE'S WORLD.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! Yeah, I know, another one already. ****What can I say, when inspiration strikes, I go with it! Anyway, sorry to those who wanted a prequel/sequel to my last story, City of Shadows, this is not it. Perhaps in the future... I wouldn't rule it out. But right now I need to mentally step away from Kaden, Jacob, Victoria, and Jetty. **

**This is just the first chapter - more of a prologue - but let me know what you think! It starts off with a bang... or more like a well-thrown punch! *wink* Hope you enjoy!**

**Oh, P.S. ONCE AGAIN, ORIGINAL CHARACTERS IN CASSANDRA CLARE'S WORLD.**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 1 – Kidnapping<strong>

Usually Joanna didn't mind walking home from school. Most days either her best friend Kirsten would walk with her, or her boyfriend, Alex. Kirsten was the wild-child, Alex was the sweet guy, and Joanna herself was the quiet girl. Today neither of them was with her; Kirsten was trying out for the hip-hop team – of course she would make it – and Alex had soccer practice. Regrettably, with all the homework she had, Joanna couldn't stick around and watch.

She smiled when she thought of Alex. Joanna and Kirsten had been best friends for the longest time, and high school hadn't changed anything, even now that they were more than halfway through. They'd met Alex in grade nine, and he'd fit right in with their group. Joanna had never thought he would go for her, even though she'd had a secret crush on him since she was fourteen, the time when she'd met him.

When he asked her out halfway through grade ten, she'd been ecstatic. Her heart had soared. It still did when she was with him. Now they'd been going out for a year and seven months. They weren't an outrageous couple, but the love was there. Kirsten had fake-gagged more than once in their presence and told them their sweetness or cuteness was too much for her. She was joking, of course; Kirsten had never seemed to be bothered by their relationship, and it hadn't changed her and Joanna's tight-knit friendship at all. Besides, Kirsten had no shortage of boys asking _her_ out.

Joanna lifted her head, breathing in the fresh scent of damp earth and feeling the spring sunshine on her face. It was a welcome change after days of rain. The small town on the coast of southern British Colombia, Canada, in which she lived had its advantages, but weather was not one of them. She paused as a car approached so it could pass by before she crossed the street. She was only a block away from her house. The car slowed to a stop in front of her, and after a moment of confusion she realized she didn't recognize the shiny black car and it was probably someone new or a tourist asking for directions.

So imagine her surprise when a man leaped out of the car and straight at her without a word.

He was not so much a man as a boy; his cropped blonde hair was spiky and his grey eyes flashed. Startled, she realized he looked her age, around seventeen. He had curling black tattoos up his arms and peeking out from under the collar of his shirt at his neck. He lunged at her, arms flying out.

Joanna threw up her own arms to protect herself on reflex, shocked. He slammed into her around the waist, knocking her to the ground and the breath right out of her. Her backpack slipped off her shoulder and she went sprawling, half on the sidewalk and half on somebody's lawn. Unable to catch herself, her head bounced against the ground hard enough for her to see stars.

His hand was over her mouth before she could scream, his hot, heavy body pressing down on her and making it impossible to escape. She screamed uselessly against his hand anyway, struggling as hard as she could.

_This is not happening. I have a chemistry lab to finish tonight and a book club meeting tomorrow. It's just a normal day, a normal week. I have a normal life. This is _not happening_._

He cursed as she bit down on his hand, but he didn't let her go, even when she tasted blood, like copper pennies on her tongue. Instead, he hauled her to her feet and started dragging her toward the car.

_No, no, no, NO!_

She struggled frantically, making noises and trying to hit him as hard as she could. She didn't know _how_ to fight! _Where was everyone? _Her awkward punches met rock hard muscles, but somehow she managed to get a single good shot at his ribs that made him go "oof."

And then his fist came swinging up and met her temple, sending her spinning into darkness.

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><p><strong>AN IMPORTANT SIDE NOTE:<strong>

**No, the blonde boy IS NOT JACE and Alex IS NOT ALEC.  
>THEY ARE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS, YOU'LL SEE. <strong>

**- Cat**


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2 – A Little More Than Just a Crush**

"Hey Kirsten," Alex greeted her.

"Mmph," Kirsten replied, downing another slurp from her Tim Horton's cup. She had a hoodie on and her hair was rumpled. She couldn't function before 10 am, especially not without coffee. So what the hell was she doing at school so early?

She had a world history project to do. And her partner was Alex, so of course she didn't say no. But boy was she kicking herself for it now.

"Where's Jo?" he asked. Alex always seemed awake and alert. Kirsten envied his steadiness. Her emotions were always so strong and all over the place. _Stoic_ was not on her list of character traits; meanwhile, Alex was always calm and collected in the face of any situation.

"Not here yet," she replied, slouching against her locker as they stood in the hall. Alex nodded, looking unperturbed – and amazingly put together in his jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt ensemble. Kirsten nearly scowled.

As she eyed him, Kirsten had to admit that she also envied her best friend's relationship. She loved Joanna to death, of course, but she couldn't help but want what Jo had with a guy like Alex. Sweet, thoughtful, athletic, charmingly boyish, funny, hot, and once she thought she caught a glimpse of a tattoo on his shoulder–

_But he's taken,_ she reminded herself sternly. Her relationships were always fast and explosive, burning brightly and then fading quickly like a falling star. It was fun, but sometimes she longed for a steady relationship with a guy like… well, a guy like Alex. A guy she could rely on. A guy who would treat her right.

_Ugh,_ she groaned. _It's too early in the morning for this._

"Let's get going anyway," Alex said. "Joanna will meet up with us in the library."

They trudged to the library – well, Kirsten trudged and Alex walked. They sat down at once of the tables among the shelves of books. Slowly Kirsten woke up fully, sitting up, rubbing her eyes, and setting down her coffee as they got to work.

Something about Alex always woke her up.

They worked for the next half-hour, pouring over the books and papers sprawled across the table, heads bent together; his tousled brown and hers long voluminous blonde.

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><p>Kirsten sat at her desk, her elbow on the table propping up her face. She stared ahead listlessly, the teacher's monotone voice droning in the background. She and Alex had handed in their project and now the teacher was going on about… something. She wasn't bothering to listen. Alex had just given her an amused half-smile when she grumbled to him about still being tired.<p>

She jumped as the bell rang, instantly wide awake as she grabbed her books and shovelled them into her backpack.

"Lunchtime!" she sang, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she flew upright. Alex was already standing with his own backpack on his shoulders. She ignored the amused grin once again on his face, along with the butterflies in her stomach that came with it. "C'mon!" she said impatiently. "Let's go find Jo!"

She bounded through the halls and into the cafeteria, towing Alex behind her, his long-legged stride allowing him to keep up easily. She waved to some other people she knew as she looked out across the caf. Joanna usually met them at an empty table – they'd taken to sitting near the windows – but today she was nowhere in sight. Kirsten turned to Alex.

"Is she sick today?" she demanded.

"Not that I know of," Alex replied mildly, but his keen eyes scanned the big room.

"Oh," Kirsten muttered, deflating a little even as her heart thumped. She refused acknowledge why this happened even though her body was suddenly very aware of Alex's presence beside her. "Well, let's eat," she said.

They sat at the usual table, and Kirsten noticed that sunlight was pouring in, instead of grey light and the pitter-patter of rain. It was nice. She dropped down in a chair and yanked out her lunch, tossing it onto the table. Alex sat across from her and pulled out his own food; the sharp contrast between the ways they did the simple action was almost comical.

Kirsten chatted nearly non-stop in between bites, the way she always did. Alex spoke too, of course, and the conversation flowed, but _sometimes_ _he gets this distant look in his eyes that makes him seem even more untouchable that he already is– _

Kirsten dismissed the thought immediately. She was imagining things. Alex was perfectly warm to her; they were friends and they were talking like friends did. But he was looking at her strangely now, and she realized she'd broken off mid-sentence.

"Sorry," she said, flushing, having completely forgotten what she was saying. She quickly changed the subject, adding, "Where do you think Jo is?"

"I don't know," he said, showing just the right amount of boyfriend concern. "Maybe she's not feeling well. I'll stop by her place after school and see."

"Why don't you just–" Kirsten stopped and rolled her eyes. She was about to say _Why don't you just text her?_ but then she remembered he didn't have a phone. Or a car, for that matter. Kirsten realized she didn't even know where Alex _lived_. In all the three years she'd known him, she'd never thought about it. "I'll text her," she finished, pulling out her phone.

But by the time the end of the lunch rolled around, Kirsten still hadn't gotten a text back.

"She must be sleeping," she decided, and mystery-man Alex nodded. Only he wasn't _really_ a mystery, Kirsten knew him. She wondered if Joanna had ever been to his house…

"Let's go before we're late to class," Alex said. Kirsten got to her feet, chucking her garbage in a trash bin and picking up her bag again as she followed, thoughts still wandering.

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><p><strong>AN: Basically a chapter in Kirsten's POV. Joanna (whom you were introduced to in the previous chapter) is not the ONLY one starring in this fic. Her friends play an important role as well... Anyway, hope you liked it! It still isn't at the length I want each chapter to be, so I'll be working on that...**

**Also, I've never really left "author's notes" before, so we'll see how this goes. If it ruins the flow of the story for you, please skip past it to the next available chapter. Unless is says IMPORTANT, this will be mostly just me rambling on about story/TMI/Shadowhunter/other stuff.**

**THANKS for reading/reviewing!**

**- Cat**


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3 – Shadowhunters**

The first thing Joanna was aware of was the rocking motion of being carried as she regained consciousness. Then the feel of muscular arms around her and the tap of footsteps on stone floors. Her head pounded, and she could almost feel her blood pump through the bruise that had flowered on her left temple. Inexplicably, her upper right arm ached. She struggled to open her eyes and found herself staring up at the strong jaw line of the same blond-haired, grey-eyed boy who attacked her.

With a small sort-of shriek, she began to struggle, kicking out with her legs and pushing with her arms. Pain lanced through her head and her vision went white for a moment; she found herself limp and gasping on the floor with the boy leaning over her.

He was pulling out a small, pen-shaped object that looked like some kind of stylus. It was a silvery-white colour, almost emitting its own light. She turned her head away from him weakly when he moved the thing towards her, and he muttered, "Stop struggling."

She let out another cry as the tip of the stylus touched her skin with a burning sensation that wasn't entirely unpleasant. He drew something on her with nimble fingers and she felt her head clear, the dizziness slowly fading.

"Come on," he said, pulling her up again, surprisingly gentle and with a slight frown. "Head injuries are tricky, so you're going to have to see Remington."

She jerked away from him, terror welling up in her. _Where was she? What had happened? Who was this boy and what did her want with her? _It seemed they were standing in a shady _church_, in the center aisle with rows and rows of pews on either side. Shafts of light poured in through the skylights, illuminated swirls of dust in the air. Instead of Jesus on the cross on the back wall behind the alter, there was an enormous painting of an angel, his wings spread wide, rising out of a lake holding a cup in one hand and a sword in the other. Behind the boy were large, ornate doors that she knew must lead outside.

"Come on," he said again, a little more impatiently this time as he reached for her arm.

"Asher, let the poor girl be. She's clearly scared out of her mind, white as a ghost!" The boy, Asher, turned.

"Hey Rem," he said. The man Asher spoke to looked timeless – he could have been twenty-five or forty, Joanna couldn't tell. All she knew was that he had an air of knowledge and a certain _kindness_ in his eyes. Jo stood there, hands trembling. She looked down at what the boy had drawn on her and saw what looked like a tattoo burned into the skin of her forearm, similar to those that he had on his.

How was that possible?

"Joanna Devereau?"

"Yes?" she replied, her voice small and raspy.

"My name is John Remington. I'm the keeper of this place, the Victoria Institute."

_Victoria?_ Joanna was shocked. Did that mean that the boy had taken her all the way onto Vancouver Island? And the Victoria Institute of _what_?

"I know this may be quite confusing to you, and I wish your mother were here to explain, though I doubt she would be happy about it," he said with a slight grimace.

"My _mother_?" she squeaked. What the heck did her mother have to do with this?

"Yes, well, she's currently away on business," Remington said. _Yes,_ Joanna thought, clinging to something solid, something she knew for sure. _Mom was on a business trip in Ontario. She trusted Jo not to get into trouble. _Uh oh._ This was trouble, wasn't it?_ "Apparently the Toronto Institute needed reinforcements to capture a notorious Italian rogue vampire."

Now Joanna looked at him like he was out of his mind. Vampires? She'd read her fair share of novels on the subject, so she was familiar with both the evil and the sparkly kind. But they didn't _exist_.

"You're crazy," she said, almost frantically. "Insane. Vampires don't exist. Just let me go back home–"

"A lot more things, worse things, than vampires exist," Asher suddenly spoke up, watching Jo with his curious grey eyes. "There are demons and warlocks, faeries and werewolves–"

"Asher, stop it, you're only frightening her," Remington began to scold, but Joanna spoke over him.

"No there _aren't_," she said, and now her voice trembled too. "Those things _don't exist_." _They can't. They can't exist._ But something far down inside her told her that Asher was right, what he said was _true_.

"You know they do," he said, voicing her deepest thoughts. "Even if your mother blocked your Sight."

"My… Sight?"

"Your ability to see the creature of the Shadow World," Remington said. "All Shadowhunters are born with it, though for some it is crippled and must be taught. You say her Sight was blocked?" Remington asked Asher.

"Yeah, there was a Blocking rune on her shoulder," he replied, never taking his eyes off Joanna. "I undid it."

Joanna was vaguely aware of the heaviness in her right shoulder, but her mind was caught on one word and she repeated it faintly.

"Shadowhunters?"


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4 – Mandate from Heaven**

"Look, I'm sorry if I scared you before."

Joanna barely heard him as they walked down the halls of the Institute. _You are one of the Nephilim, an ancient race descended from one man who mixed his blood with the blood of the Angel, Raziel. All Shadowhunters have the blood of the Angel in them._

"I just didn't believe you didn't know what you were, considering your mom's high standing in the Clave."

_We fight to rid the Earth of demons that crawl into our world from other dimensions. That is our mandate from Heaven. The runes give us our power, and can only be drawn on the skin of a Shadowhunter._

Remington had told her so much that her head spun. Now Asher was taking her to her _room_ – the one she'd be staying in so they could _train_ her. Remington was merciful about one thing, though. He took one look at her face and said, "Let's wait until you're settled in to go through the details of why you're here."

Why _was_ she here? Why hadn't her mother ever told her about this? Her mother, who went on frequent business trips. Her mother, who didn't like to talk about her work. Joanna had thought they'd had a good relationship despite the time apart, despite the death of Jo's dad when Jo was very young. But no, Patricia Devereau was a Shadowhunter. And a very important Shadowhunter at that.

_We fight._

_That is our mandate from Heaven. _

_You are one of the Nephilim._

Joanna still wasn't sure she believed any of this. It was too much. She shuffled along blindly behind Asher, following him down the halls of the Institute._ Is this what shock feels like? _She felt numb, like none of this was actually happening to her.

"Here's your room," Asher said, stopping in front of a door. He pulled out a key and unlocked the door before handing it to her. His fingers were warm when they brushed hers. She took the key in a daze and he pushed open the door, stepping back so she could go inside.

The room was very plain and very beige, spotlessly clean. It had a bed with the sheets pulled tight, a lamp sitting atop a nightstand, and a bare dresser with five drawers. There was another door that led to a bathroom and a window on the far wall.

"I'll be right back," Asher said, and Joanna stood there for a moment, listening to his retreating footsteps. Then she made her way over to the window and pulled back the curtain.

She gasped.

Joanna stared out at the Pacific Ocean, glittering in the sun. The Institute seemed to be perched on the very tip of the island, and waves crashed against the tumble of rocks below. The land curved out of sight on both sides, but Joanna could see where the rocks turned to sand and where the trees – tall hemlocks and pines – sprung up, as ancient as the stone of the windowsill beneath her fingers. Civilization was nowhere in sight.

"Nice view, huh?"

She turned quickly to see Asher standing in the doorway again. He was holding something by a strap, something black and familiar.

"My bag!" she exclaimed, reaching forward to snatch it out of his hands. He watched as she hugged it to her chest, feeling the comforting weight of her books inside. Then she remembered all at once and gasped again, scrambling to open the side pocket. Her phone tumbled out, and she dropped her bag as she scooped it up off the floor frantically.

A warm, scarred hand closed around her wrist.

"I wouldn't call anyone, if I were you." Fear burst inside her again and she jerked away from Asher.

"They won't believe you, and besides, you wouldn't want your mundane friends involved with Shadowhunter business. It can be dangerous," he went on as he pulled away from her, frowning as he muttered quietly, "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Dangerous?" she questioned, apprehension and dread sitting like a stone in the pit of her stomach.

"Demons," he replied casually, as if that explained everything. Joanna looked down at her phone again. _One new text._ The little words blinked on the screen. Glancing up guardedly, she opened the text. It was from Kirsten.

_Where are you?_

She swallowed hard and texted back, _I'll be away for a few days._ That was it. She hit send. She still wasn't sure what she believed, or more importantly, what was the truth, so she didn't write anything else.

"I just told them I'll be away for a while," she said, feeling the need to explain herself as Asher looked on darkly.

"Okay," he said, lightening up. "Would you like a tour of the Institute?"

"How long will I be here?" she asked, answering his question with a question.

"A few weeks," he replied.

"_Weeks_?" She couldn't seem to breathe right. She would be here _for a few weeks?_ Weeks with people she didn't know, who kidnapped her, who believed in crazy things like _demons_?

"Patricia should be back in the next week," he added. _Mom,_ JOanna thought. _Mom will know what to do. _But right now, Joanna didn't want to think about that. She didn't want to think about her mother, about her best friend or her boyfriend, about angels and demons and runes and fighting. She didn't want to think about the lies.

"No thank you," she said quietly, suddenly feeling very weary. She sat down abruptly on the bed. "No, I don't want a tour." _I want to go home._

Asher nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him.

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><p><strong>HEY EVERYBODY!<strong>

**I'm sorry it's been so long since I last updated... my computer/Internet wasn't working right, but hopefully now everything is fixed. In the meantime I was writing, so I have the next 6 chapters for you! Hope that makes up for it! Thanks for reading & reviewing! You guys rock!**

**- Cat**


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5 – A Life **

"'I'll be away for a few days,'" Kirsten repeated, glaring at her phone. She'd read the text a thousand times and could still make no sense of it. It wasn't like Joanna to do something like this. Kirsten looked up at Alex. "Did _you_ know anything about this?" she asked accusingly.

"No," he said, frowning as he reached out to take her phone and look at the text. "She didn't say anything to me."

That only made the feeling in Kirsten's stomach worse. People walked down the hall, talking and laughing loudly, which made Kirsten want to scream. If Jo didn't tell her, then she would tell Alex to tell her. And for Joanna, Kirsten knew being gone for a few days – especially missing school for a few days – was a big deal. Jo was nerdy like that and Kirsten loved to tease her for it.

"Stop over-reacting," Alex said, giving her a knowing look. It was true; Kirsten was prone to letting her emotions get the best of her most of the time. She took a breath.

"Maybe her mom came back early and took her somewhere," Alex speculated. "She might not have had time to text much." Kirsten relaxed a bit. That had happened before, and despite being happy that her mom was home, Kirsten knew Joanna had been furious about it.

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><p>"<em>Does she think I don't have a life? That I don't have things to do?" Joanna said. <em>

"_What life?" Kirsten joked, leaning back in the desk chair. They were lounging in Joanna's room on a Saturday night. She grinned. "You spend all your time studying."_

"_Kirsten," Joanna intoned with annoyance, and Kirsten quickly sobered, sitting up. This was a rare moment of anger for Jo. Usually she was the calm one, like Alex but a little more introverted and bookwormish. That's how Kirsten knew this thing with her mom really bothered Joanna._

"_I know, Jo, but she's your mom," Kirsten said. "She wants to spend time with you."_

"_I know," Joanna replied with sigh. "I know. I just wish… I just wish it didn't have to be like this, little snatches of time in between working so much." _

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><p>Joanna never talked about it again, and Kirsten sensed she was trying not to dwell on it. Jo never held a grudge.<p>

"Yeah, that could be it," Kirsten said to Alex. "I'll just ask…" She trailed off, typing rapidly on the tiny keyboard on her phone. _How long will you be gone?_ She hit send and slid her phone shut.

"There," Kirsten said, looking down at her phone in her hand. "I hope she's okay," she added quietly. Alex's hand on her arm made Kirsten jump and look up quickly.

"I'm sure she's fine," he said softly, reassuringly. Kirsten felt a flash of gratitude along with the explosion of tingles in her stomach and the hyper-awareness of his touch. She nodded.

But when they split for class, Kirsten found herself murmuring, "I hope so. I hope so."

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><p>"Your training will begin immediately, as we have a lot of ground to cover. Asher will be helping out, because obviously, we're short-staffed right now. Tomorrow morning we'll cover some of the basics in class…"<p>

Joanna had stayed in her room until the sun was casting slanted shadows across the floor and burning gold as it disappeared below the waves. It was then that she got up and grabbed her backpack. She leaned out the door, and when she was certain no one was watching, she stepped out into the hall and started walking away as quietly as she could.

"Joanna?" It was Remington. She turned. He smiled broadly, and it was difficult to think of him as a crazy demon-cult captor. "I was just about to call you for dinner!" She swallowed her escape plans and followed him down the hall. It was then that she found out that Remington could cook. He could cook marvellously.

She sat at the table with Asher as Remington brought over a pot of something that smelled delicious. She couldn't remember when she'd eaten last but she ate slowly anyway as Remington continued to talk to her, telling her more and more. She was burning with questions that she was too shy to ask.

"At the moment, it's just Asher and I at the Institute," Remington said. She looked at Asher, who was eating quietly. "His mother shipped him over here to get some experience outside of the Calgary Institute. That and he wasn't being a very good boy," he said, not without affection as he looked at Asher.

"Uncle Rem," Asher said in annoyance. "I was doing fine in my classes."

"I know, but you still have to _go_ to them," Remington said sternly. Asher very nearly rolled his eyes. Joanna looked between them, realizing with a blink that they were related. They were family. Asher had called him _uncle_.

"You're awfully quiet," Remington said, turning to Joanna with one last look at his nephew. He softened his voice. "I'm sorry it had to be this way. I'm sure once your mother returns, all your questions will be answered and you'll feel much more comfortable."

Considering how much her mother had hid from her, Joanna wasn't entirely sure that was true. But as she looked at Remington and Asher, she knew they weren't bad people, whatever they believed. And until her mother got back, there wasn't much she could do. Even if she did escape, how would she get back onto the mainland without a car?

So at the Institute she would stay. She would just have to go with it.

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><p><strong>Soooo... More action soon! I'm just setting the scene right now for a wild ride later ;)<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6 – Mandate from Heaven**

Joanna had retired to her room after dinner, exhausted. Apparently, learning that there was a whole other world that existed alongside your own and that you were a part of it took a lot out of a person.

She looked around the room again, the lamp casting a soft yellow glow. She opened the top dresser drawer and found it was filled with clothes: plain grey sweatpants, drawstring pants, and jeans on one side, and a variety of different coloured sweaters and t-shirts on the other.

The next drawer had tough, leather-like gear with buckles and pockets and loops that looked like they were made to hold weapons. She closed that one quickly.

The third, fourth, and fifth drawers were empty, so she filled one with the contents of her backpack: her books, binders, textbooks and pencil case. She glanced at her chemistry textbook. She'd missed the lab today. Her heart contracted. Alex and Kirsten were her partners… and she knew how she felt had nothing to do with the stupid lab.

A knock on her door jolted her out of her thoughts. She scrubbed her eyes vigorously as she got up and answered the door. It was Asher. He stood there, wearing the same black leather gear she'd seen in the drawer. She could smell the faint scent of burning and saw new tattoos on his arms. He opened his mouth to say something, but paused when he saw her wet cheeks.

"Yes?" she said, making her voice strong and wiping away the last of her tears.

"I know you don't believe a word we say," he began.

"I–"

"It's okay. I just want a chance to prove to you that it's real." She nodded mutely. _How did he plan on proving anything? _But she stopped thinking about the implications; he was going to give her straight, concrete answers. So she followed.

"This is the armoury," he said, pushing through a door. "Also known as–" he flicked the light switch "–the weapons room." She could see how it had gotten its name. The walls, shelves, and tables were lined with sharpened items made to kill. Asher pulled a strange knife off the wall. The blade looked like it was made of glass. He hefted it comfortably in his hand, like he was born to hold it.

"This is a seraph blade," he said, holding it up. "It needs an angel name to be activated and kill demons." She stared. "_Gabriel_." Light flared, making Joanna blink. Her eyes widened when she saw that the blade itself was glowing. He put it down and the light slowly faded. Once it had gone dark, he shoved it through his belt, along with a few others.

"This," he continued, plucking another instrument off the wall, "is a Sensor. It detects the presence of demons or demonic activity." It looked like a cell phone, except there was no screen and the buttons had strange symbols on them.

"And this," he said, opening a drawer and pulling out a long, thin object, "is a stele." It was exactly like the one he had used to draw the tattoo – no, it was a _rune_, she knew that now – onto her skin. She glanced down at her arm and then back at him. He was holding the stele out to her.

"All Shadowhunters have one," he said.

She hesitated. There was something in the way he said it. She knew if she took it, it meant that she trusted him, that she was accepting what he was saying. Her fingers closed around the stele. It was slightly warm and glowed faintly. She put it in her pocket and looked back up at him again.

"Follow me," he said.

He led her down the halls of the Institute and back into the portion that was a church. Their footsteps echoed across the flagstone floor and Joanna shivered. The candles lit in the corners cast a flickering glow, but no warmth.

Asher pushed open the front doors, and they walked out, down the stone steps and onto a gravel driveway. The stones crunched under Joanna's feet as they walked down the single lane. It disappeared into the darkness of the tall, thick forest. It was dusk, the light fading fast. Jo could see the moon rising over the water, the stars coming out one by one.

"C'mon," Asher called quietly, and Joanna realized with a start that she had stopped and was staring at the sky. She hurried to catch up to him, and saw that he had the Sensor in his hand. They walked for ten minutes, half of which Jo spent trying to figure out how his steps made no sound on the loose gravel while hers were so loud.

"Here," he said, and stopped abruptly. He veered off the path and Joanna was grateful for her boots, the ones Kirsten made fun of her for wearing all the time. If only Kirsten could see her now, traipsing through the forest with a boy at night. _She would approve,_ Joanna thought with a watery smile.

Shafts of moonlight shone through the trees, making Asher's spiky hair look like tarnished silver. There was a rustle in the brush, and Asher silently threw out his hand for her to stop. She froze, her heart suddenly pounding. Something wasn't right. She could feel it.

Shadows moved, and Asher suddenly plunged his hand into his pocket and pulled out a stone. As soon as his fingers closed around it, the stone flared with a blinding white light, illuminating the forest around them. There was a burst of inhuman hissing and the sound of scrabbling claws in the leaves. Joanna squeezed her eyes shut and blinked, the light blinding her for a moment. Once her eyes adjusted, she saw what was making the noise.

It looked like a wild dog, but something was wrong with the way it moved. It had six legs, she realized, and its spine was bent awkwardly. Lips curled back from an elongated jaw revealed fangs like a Siberian tiger, dripping with saliva. It hissed again and the sound turned into a deep growl as it raised its hackles. Its skin was hairless and slick as oil, black as midnight. The reflection of its eyes in the light was crimson red.

"Caulker demon," Asher said, sounding remarkably calm as he spoke above the growling. "They usually travel in packs, but I've killed off most of them on the island." Joanna felt herself choking, the scream building in her throat cutting off her air supply. _No. It isn't possible. _Things_like that didn't exist. This is some kind of joke. It has to be._

Asher was watching her face, and she could barely force out a hoarse, wordless cry of warning as the thing launched itself at him. He whirled, dropping the bright stone as he reached for his belt.

"_Samael_!" Asher shouted, and the blade burst to life. He raised it just in time to block the thing from sinking its teeth into his throat. The force knocked him back and he hit the ground with a grunt, grappling against the teeth and claws of the demon.

And that's what it was. _A demon._ She couldn't pretend it wasn't real. It all existed, everything Remington had said was true.

And boy did Asher prove it.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7 – Scars **

Joanna was frozen for a moment before she burst into action, scrambling forward, only to trip over a root and go sprawling across the ground. _She had to run, had to get away–_

But she couldn't just leave Asher. She could hear him fighting, and somehow it seemed wrong to run, even when her whole body was screaming at her to flee. She picked herself up and lunged for the stone Asher had been holding instead. Its light had been fading rapidly, but as soon as she had it in her hand, pressing against her palm, the light flared again. Beams of it sheared the darkness away as it shone through her fingers. She turned toward the noise, holding the stone high, and light flooded over the fight.

Asher rolled on the ground with the demon, fighting to keep it from slashing his face and throat with its claws and teeth. He was quickly gaining the upper hand, moving with more speed than she'd ever seen a human being move. He kicked the demon off of him and it went flying, snarling and scrambling immediately back to its feet and launching itself at Asher. But Asher was ready, and he thrust his blade up right underneath the demon's ribs, spearing it right through mid-jump so the tip of his blade glinted as it poked out of its back. The demon's howl choked off and it crumpled, sifting away into ash before Asher could even pull out the blade.

They both stood there, panting. Asher tossed the bloody blade down and wiped his face. His fingers came away red, and Joanna made a strange sort of strangled whimpering noise before she could stop herself.

"That's what happens when they die," Asher said as he caught his breath. "They return to their home dimensions." Joanna swallowed against the nausea rising in her stomach. Asher turned to her, and she saw the gash running down the side of his face. It was shallow, but it dripped blood with a sickening _splat_ continuously onto the shoulder of his gear.

"I'm fine," he said. "Look. This is what Shadowhunters do when their injured. It's an _iratze_, a healing rune." He pulled out his stele and traced a rune next to the cut, on his cheek. The Mark faded, and with it the wound closed, leaving nothing but a very small, very faint thin line that looked silvery in the light of the stone. Joanna tried to take deep breaths. She felt light-headed and dizzy and sick. And cold. Very cold.

"Thanks for the light," Asher said, picking up his blade again and tucking it into his belt. "Good quick thinking." When she didn't respond, Asher looked at her closely.

"_Shit_," he cursed, loping towards her with unconscious grace that she noticed abstractly, muttering something about shock. "Joanna? Joanna, talk to me." It was the first time he'd ever said her name. He reached for her wrist and the stone dropped out of her hand. She blinked as the light disappeared. He cursed again and snatched up the stone, touching her wrist again. Taking her pulse.

"It's real."

His head snapped up at her words, but his voice and touch were gentle.

"Yeah, it's real."

The light from the stone in his hand illuminated them from the bottom up, and she could see the contrasting shadows of the hollows of his cheeks and eyes against his strong jaw line and cheek bones. She reached up dazedly with one hand and he froze as she traced the new scar along the side of his face with a fingertip. She dropped her hand and the spell was broken. Everything moved again.

"C'mon, let's get you back to the Institute," he said softly.

He took her hand and guided her along as she stumbled through the forest and back out onto the path. By the time they were walking along the gravel, her teeth were chattering. Asher glanced at her and picked up the pace.

Her eyes were round and wide, her cheeks pale and damp as she followed him blindly. She was barely aware of walking up the Institute steps and down the aisle between the pews, all the way to her room and into her bathroom. He turned on the water in the shower until it was steaming.

"Joanna?" His voice was still soft. She looked at him. "I need you to take a hot shower, okay? A hot shower and get into bed. I'll bring you something warm to drink."

She nodded. Yes, a hot shower. That sounded very nice right now. Asher let go of her hand, peeling her fingers off. She blinked in surprise. She hadn't been holding onto him that tightly, had she?

He left and she did what he said in a daze; as the hot water rained down on her, she came back to herself.

_Oh God._ A sob escaped her. _Demons._ It hit her hard. She was a part of this world. A world where horrible things like _that_ existed, and God knows what else–

She sucked in a shuddering breath and made a promise to herself right there. She would never, _ever_ bring her friends into this. She couldn't do that to them. She stared down at the faint white scar on her arm where the healing rune Asher had drawn on her used to be.

She would protect them, and she would never tell them what she was.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8 – Throwing the First Punch**

Joanna woke up with determination burning in her. She'd slept soundly and dreamlessly, thanks to the drink Asher had brought her as she was getting into bed. She could hardly believe he was the same boy who'd kidnapped her. She certainly wasn't the same girl.

Something had changed in her the night before. She'd never wanted anything as much as she wanted now to learn how to be a Shadowhunter now. Never again did she want to be as afraid and helpless as she had been last night. She never wanted _anybody_ to face that, to meet death through a creature of the Shadow World. She couldn't help but think of Alex and Kirsten. If anything, she would embrace her heritage for them.

So she got up and threw her window open, letting the fresh, salty ocean air blow inside as she put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from the dresser. She pulled on her boots, still caked with mud from the night before in the forest. She was just grabbing her backpack when there was a polite knock on the door.

"Hey." It was Asher, dressed in his own jeans, a fitted t-shirt that clung to his chest, and boots. His hair was damp and spiky, like he'd just taken a shower. "How are you?" She blinked, almost surprised he was asking.

"I'm fine, thank you," she said. He nodded, looking relieved. "You don't want me to tell Remington about last night, do you?" she asked. He smirked ruefully, scratching the back of his neck, and to her surprise, she laughed. "Its fine, I won't tell on you."

She threw her bag over her shoulder and let him lead her down the halls, pointing out the way to different rooms. She tried to remember as much as she could. Eventually he opened the door of their final destination, at the end of a long hall, and what Joanna saw took her breath away.

"This is the library," he said, but she was already inside. Walls and walls of books, everywhere, with arched ceilings that stretched high above. A curving staircase led up to a second floor, and huge glass windows let in natural light as well as showing off the breathtaking view of a valley of enormous trees below, leading to the ocean.

"Oh wow," Joanna breathed, running a hand over the spines of some of the books on the closest shelf, and heard a chuckle behind her.

"A book lover, I see," Remington said. Jo nodded.

"This is amazing," she said, turning to him.

"We will be doing our lessons in here," he continued, looking out the window and then back at her. "This is where you'll learn the theory and knowledge. Asher will teach you the practical part, the fighting. But in here, all you need is a sharp mind."

Joanna nodded. She could do this. This was her specialty.

* * *

><p>She may have been perfectly comfortable among the books, but this was something else entirely. She stared blankly at Asher when he told her to hit him. They were in the training room, standing on the mats in workout clothes. It was strewn with equipment, and the ceilings were just as high as in the library.<p>

"_What?_" There was no way she was just going to _hit_ him. Joanna shied away from pretty much all types of violence, even verbal.

"C'mon, punch me," Asher said. _What kind of training method is this?_ Swallowing hard, she pulled her fist back.

"Stop," Asher commanded, and she froze. "Rule number one," he said. "Always keep your thumb _outside_ your fist. Otherwise, you'll break it." She fixed her fingers quickly. "Go."

She started to swing, but not two seconds later he told her to stop again and corrected her stance. Then again, fixing her arm. Then her positioning, then her aim. He kept it up until she was so frustrated she _wanted_ to hit him.

"Go." She pulled back and put as much force into it as she could, following through. She connected squarely with his jaw, and his head snapped to the side. She even stumbled forward a bit, catching herself against his chest. He caught her arms, steadying her.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry," she said, horrified. He shook his head, let go of her and massaged his jaw, and then _grinned_. She stood there, wide-eyed.

"Nice," he said. "That was perfect. How's your hand feel?"

"My hand's fine," she replied. It was true. It only ached a bit, easily ignored. She was shocked at the ease with which the violence had come.

"So you're not totally hopeless," he joked, and she lifted her fist.

"Watch it, or I just might punch you again," she said, but she was smiling too. She could scarcely believe she was making a joke out of this, but it was funny. His grey eyes were bright.

Suddenly, a chiming sounded from her bag. It cut right through the moment, right into Joanna. "My phone," she said on an exhale of breath. Asher stared at her impassively. She turned away from him and walked over to her bag. She pulled it out of the pocket, feeling it buzz in her hand as her voicemail picked up. She quickly hit the green button, and a voice spoke as the caller left a message. The room was so quiet she didn't have to put the phone to her ear to hear him.

"Hey Joanna." There was a pause and Joanna closed her eyes. "Are you with your mom? Kirsten is freaking out, and I'm worried about you. It's probably nothing, but please call one of us back. I love you." _Beep._

"Alex," she whispered aloud, and she could hear the pain in her own voice. She shut her mouth fast. It was the second day since she'd "disappeared." She swallowed against the lump in her throat and tucked her phone away, but not before noticing the three new texts and two missed calls from Kirsten. Her eyes stung and she paused when she kneeled next her bag.

"Boyfriend?" Asher asked, a peculiar note in his tone of voice. Joanna nodded mutely, not trusting herself to speak for a moment. "Yes," she said finally, standing and turning to face him. "And Kirsten is my best friend." She had a sinking feeling in her stomach as it dawned on her. _Her promise._ For a moment she couldn't breathe, remembering the terror sinking into her bones as the demon hissed and circled. She wouldn't bring them into this. She refused. But the only way to _really_ keep them out and safe was… was to sever all contact. Her heart gave a colossal squeeze.

She reached back into her bag, pulling out her phone again. She moved slowly, as if to stall the moment. But _she had to do this._ Her fingers inevitably pushed the buttons, lifted the phone to her ear. She heard it ring. Once, twice–

"Hello? Joanna?"

"Alex," she said, his name falling out on a breath.

"Joanna? Are you okay?" He sounded so concerned she wanted to cry. She took a deep breath instead, and forced herself to turn her voice brisk.

"I'm fine," she said. "I'm with my mom."

"Oh… okay," he replied, surprised by her tone. "Where are you?"

"Listen Alex," she said, and saying his name like this nearly killed her, "I can't be with you anymore."

"Wh-what?" Alex _never_ stuttered. Joanna wondered if a heart could actually break, if you could feel it fall apart, its pieces cutting up your insides with their jagged glass edges.

"I'm going to be away for a while and I can't do the long distance thing. I'm sorry, Alex. Bye."

"Jo–"

She wondered if you could hear someone _else's_ heart breaking, too.

She snapped the phone shut.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9 – Strong **

Asher didn't say a word, his expression unreadable as he watched her.

"I had to do it," she said to no one in particular. "I had to protect him, protect _them_, from this life." Asher remained silent, and she whirled around to face him, opening her mouth to shout something, _anything_ to justify the pain. Nothing came out but a half-sob. She snapped her mouth closed so fast her teeth clicked. Then she turned on her heel and walked out.

* * *

><p>"Alex? Alex, what'd she say?" <em>Come on!<em> How come as soon as Alex used her phone to call Jo, she called back and he got to answer? "What'd she say?" Kirsten demanded again impatiently.

Alex opened his mouth, but nothing came out at first. He looked shell-shocked. Now Kirsten was getting worried. "Alex?"

"She… she broke up with me."

Kirsten froze, uncomprehending.

"_What?"_

"I've got to go." He shoved her phone back in her hands and Kirsten caught it clumsily.

"Alex, wait!" she called, but he was already striding away. His shoulders were set tightly. Kirsten's stomach twisted _He really loves her,_ she thought, because it was clear that calm, cool, and collected Alex was freaking out. Kirsten stared at his retreating back and then down at her phone.

"Oh Joanna," she whispered. "What are you _doing_?" Kirsten felt sick with worry, for Alex _and_ Joanna. But for Joanna, she was also furious. "Jo, _what are you doing? Where are you?_" She threw her phone down with a frustrated noise that didn't even begin to cover how she felt. A few people glanced over at her, but she glared back and they quickly looked away.

More than anything, she missed her best friend. She missed how things used to be. She sniffed and cursed, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand and snatching her phone off the floor, storming off after the boy she knew she wasn't supposed to love.

* * *

><p>Asher didn't knock on Joanna's door the next morning. She wouldn't have answered if he had. Her eyes were puffy and her throat was raw. She'd cried until she couldn't anymore and still felt the uneven pain in her chest. She was a mess.<p>

She lay in bed the entire day, feeling wretched. _It's over, it's over, it's over_ kept replaying in her head, along with _I ended it, I ended it, I ended it._

_It was to protect them,_ she thought fiercely, but that didn't make it hurt less, even though it was true. Her dreams that night were full of teeth and claws and _loneliness_. Beseeching chocolate brown eyes full of pain, a warm touch. _Alex._ Flying long blonde hair, loud carefree laughter that turned to screams. _Kirsten. _Running through air thick as blood but never reaching them, unable to get there in time to save them. Her mother, a shadowy figure in the distance. All alone. _Darkness, moving shadows, always reaching, reaching, shaking and crying out–_

"Joanna!"

She jolted out of the nightmare, gasping and jerking wildly. Her cheeks were wet, the scream dying in her throat. Warm hands clasped her arms, struggling to hold her still. She fought irrationally. _She had to protect them._ She was furious and hurt, the emotions welling up inside her until she had to get them out. _It was her own fault, her own stupid fault–she had to protect them–_

"Joanna, it's me!" He grunted as she punched him in the stomach and kicked out. They rolled across the bed and tumbled to the floor, still grappling. He landed on her heavily, knocking the breath out of her and holding her down. After a few more seconds of thrashing, she went limp. His fingers still circled her wrists, pinning her arms to her sides. She was gasping, and the name came out against her will, a low, pained moan.

"_Alex_." She felt Asher tense against her.

"No, it's Asher." He rolled off of her, getting to his feet. She curled up right there on the floor, pressing her hot face to the cool wood planks. Asher stood there, not making a sound. Her raspy breathing filled the room.

"I'm sorry," she whispered brokenly. She wondered when she'd gotten so emotionally unstable. She was supposed to be the quiet, smart one who looked at things logically and responded calmly. Asher didn't move, didn't say a word.

"Why did you come?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

"I heard you screaming in your sleep," he said.

"…I'm sorry." He didn't reply, but somehow when he slowly walked out of the room, it brought another wave of sadness crashing down upon her, making her breath hitch.

But really, what else did she expect him to do?

Joanna could feel the sunrise as it approached. She watched as the light in the room grew brighter, a pale blue glow. She listened to the faint call of seabirds outside as she stared listlessly ahead at the ancient, cracked floorboards, feeling empty.

But she was a Shadowhunter, and from what she'd learned about them, she knew that if Shadowhunters were one thing, they were strong. She had to be strong. The feeling filled her, and she dragged herself to her feet. She could still feel the hole in her heart that no new emotion would fill. But she steeled herself against it, covered it up until it was just a dull throb in her chest, almost like a heartbeat.

She was a Shadowhunter, one of the Nephilim. She _would_ be strong.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10 – Marks of an Angel**

If Alex had been kind of quiet before, he was downright _mute_ now. Kirsten wasn't doing so well herself.

Joanna had been gone for two weeks.

She didn't reply to anything. Pleading texts, frantic calls, nothing. Kirsten wondered if she still had her phone. Kirsten was furious. How could Joanna do this? Just get up and leave, with not so much as a goodbye for Kirsten?

And the entirely _wrong_ kind of goodbye for Alex.

Kirsten's heart ached for him. She watched him suffer every day, and there was nothing she could do. She saw the dark circles under his eyes that spoke of long, sleepless nights, and whenever they split up, she'd always end up finding him in the school gym, working out.

His workouts scared her. She may have been furious, but the most she did was scream into her pillow a couple of times and throw a few things around her room. He punched and kicked the bag with such ferocity that it was frightening. In a strange way, it was also beautiful. He was fast and powerful, and as graceful as an angel. But if he were an angel, he was fallen, because the expression on his face was hardly angelic. He looked blank and focused, jaw set. She saw the pain in his eyes he was trying so hard to hide.

She winced when she walked into the fitness room yet again, listening to the dull thud of fists and feet.

"Alex?" she called tentatively. She dropped her bag and rounded the corner. Alex stood there, motionless, the bag swinging. His breathing was ragged, his t-shirt straining over his tight shoulders. His hands hung by his sides, and she could see the ugly purple bruises across his knuckles.

"Alex," she said again, her voice cracking. She stood there, behind him. His head was bowed and he didn't reply. She reached out hesitantly, touching his back, and all at once the tension rushed out of him. He turned and dropped to his knees, reaching for her. He clung to her like a child, pressing his face against her stomach. She wrapped her arms around him and stroked his hair, her own emotion welling up inside her. Tears ran down her cheeks as he shook in her arms.

It was a long moment before they broke apart.

* * *

><p>Two week had gone by. It seemed impossible, but it was true. Joanna leaned out of the window, breathing in the ocean air. She remembered the day she'd pulled herself off the floor and dropped her phone down on the rocks below. <em>Sever all contact. Protect them. Be strong.<em>

There was a knock on the door. She turned and crossed her room, swinging the door open wide.

"It's time," Asher said in a gravely solemn voice.

"Oh, shut up," Joanna said, shoving his shoulder as he burst into a grin. He was teasing her. They'd fallen into a friendly rhythm, and surprisingly enough, it was nice.

He was referring to the night when she'd gotten her first Marks, a few days ago. Remington and Asher had packed years of training and classes into days and hours so she would be ready, even though they never said _why_ she needed to learn everything so fast. She picked it up easily, like it was second nature, but she'd still been spectacularly nervous for her Marks.

* * *

><p><em>There was a knock on her door. She stopped pacing and answered it, swallowing hard. Asher stood there, his face serious. <em>

"_It's time." _

_She followed him down the hall and into the church. The ceremonial robe she wore was black, dark as midnight and inscribed with runes. She felt bare, and clutched the silk tighter around her body. Of course, that's because she was naked underneath. _

_The church was illuminated by dozens of candles flickering in the shadowed corners. A great slab of marble lay across the alter. The Angel Raziel rose out Lake Lyn behind it, holding the Sword and the Cup. Asher left the room and she cast one last glance behind her as he closed the doors. She could have sworn he _winked_. She looked ahead again. Hooded figures stood in a semi-circle around the alter, parchment coloured robes brushing the floor, their faces obscured. _

_These were the Silent Brothers._

_They drew back their hoods and Joanna stifled a gasp. Empty eye sockets and lips sewed shut, every head bald as a skull and decorated with black runes._

Joanna Devereau?

"_Yes?" she replied, and she couldn't stop her voice from shaking slightly. Their voices spoke in her head, each with it own pitch and tone, but remained inflectionless._

You are called before us to receive your Marks as one of the Nephilim. Do you accept the call of Heaven to protect this Earth from the creatures of the Otherworld?

"_I do."_

Remove your robes and lie down.

_She untied the robe and let it drop to the floor, shivering and blushing. _They can't see me,_ she thought, to ease her embarrassment. _But then how could they apply the Marks?

_She climbed up onto the granite slab and lay down on her back, goosebumps prickling along her arms and legs. She stared at the ceiling, where a single skylight had been opened above her. She watched the glittering stars and the sliver of the full moon that she could see._

_The Silent Brothers began chanting in a language she didn't recognize, but had learned to be ancient Latin. The sound was hair-raising, and her heart beat hard in her chest. One of the Brothers raised his arms, and in one hand he held a stele. His hands were cool and the stele was hot as it touched the skin of the back of her left hand. She drew in a quick breath and squeezed her eyes shut as the Brother drew._

_She thought she'd gotten used to working through pain, from sparring daily with Asher, but this was a million times worse than anything she'd ever experienced. Slow, agonizing, burning pain as the stele slid across her skin in strong, delicate patterns. She screamed and writhed, struggling uselessly to get away as cool hands held her in an iron grip. The excruciating pain stole away her rationality; somewhere inside, Joanna knew she _wanted_ her Marks, but _oh God, it hurt so much…

_It seared across the back of her left hand._

Sight.

_Then again, gliding over the back of her right hand._

Skill.

_Then on the curve of her leg._

Speed.

_Then just under her ear._

Balance.

_She was sobbing now, begging them to _stop, it's too much, please… _but the chanting only grew louder, stronger, echoing over her screams. Black spots dotted her vision as she felt cool hands turning her over. And then the stele again across her left shoulder blade, just before she passed out, scrawling right over her heart:_

Strength.

* * *

><p>She had drifted in and out of consciousness the day after, plagued by a fever that emulated the burning of the Marks. First it had been Asher by her bedside, then Remington, then Asher again… Her dreams had been so twisted that she hadn't been sure what was real and what her mind had conjured up.<p>

But once she recovered, she felt invigorated. The Marks were smooth and black, permanently painted onto her skin, matrixes of swirling lines and elegant patterns. She could look at the runes now and _see_ _meaning_. She just knew.

It made her feel _almost_ like a true Shadowhunter. _Almost_ because she hadn't killed a demon yet. Soon that would change. Asher had promised. Soon.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you guys are enjoying this! Also, you may think I've forgotten a few things (Where's Jo's mom? Why was she kidnapped in the first place? etc) but don't worry, I have a plan! Just you wait... <strong>

**:) Thanks SO MUCH for reading and reviewing!**

**- Cat**


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11 – Homework**

Kirsten miserably trudged to the front of the class while the rest of the students filed out. Mr. Tanner scrawled the homework questions at the top of the packet of worksheets, handing them to her with a sympathetic look that Kirsten ignored as she took the papers, looking away quickly from the name Mr. Tanner had also written at the top of the page.

_Joanna Devereau._

Kirsten walked out of chemistry class with the pages clutched gently in her hands so as not to wrinkle them. She had a pile of Jo's homework at home, perfectly arranged on her desk. Jo's homework was the only clean, organized thing in her whole room. Kirsten was strangely obsessive-compulsive about it; she kept it in chronological order and according to subject. But when your best friend goes missing for three weeks, you tend to not worry about your own strange behaviour.

Alex was waiting for Kirsten, leaning against the lockers across the hall. He skipped class most days now, but always showed up to walk Kirsten silently to her next class, or all the way home at the end of the day. Kirsten took one look at him – shaggy brown hair falling in disarray over his eyes, eyes that were deeply shadowed, and the closed expression on his face – and there was a painful tightness in her chest.

But _everything was fine._ Of course Joanna would be back. Yes, Kirsten was fine. No need to talk about anything. Joanna was fine, and she'd be back _soon_. What was there to talk about? EVERYTHING WAS FINE.

Pretending _everything was fine_ was the probably only way she was going to survive this without going crazy. But looking at Alex, she knew everything was _not fine._

Kirsten was a girl of action, if nothing else. Her personality was bright and loud, and she wore clothes to match. Looking down at herself, she knew she'd fallen apart in the past few weeks. But then again, she'd always known that Joanna was the strong one. Yet no matter how badly this had affected her, she didn't care. What she cared about right now was the boy standing in front of her.

She grabbed Alex's arm and dragged him down the hall. For the first time in days her stride had a real purpose. He kept up easily as usual, and without resistance. It was only when she turned to walk into their world history class that he froze.

"C'mon Alex," she said determinedly, her fingers digging into his firm forearm as she pulled. "This has got to stop. You're coming to class." He didn't say a word.

"This is not a healthy way to deal with a break up!" Kirsten exclaimed. Now Alex gave her a pointed look. Kirsten rolled her eyes. "I know, I know." Okay, so _she_ didn't get broken up with, but still. She touched his bruised knuckles with her other hand. "But this is not a good way to cope."

He stared into her eyes, and it was then that she realized how close they were standing, only a foot apart. His eyes were dark and fathomless, and they held her while the rest of the world passed by in a senseless blur. She dropped her hold as he reached up and brushed an unruly strand of her blonde hair away from her face. She was fairly sure she'd stopped breathing.

"Kirsten," he said, his voice quiet and rough. "Don't worry about me."

That was it. He turned and walked away, and by the time Kirsten had snapped back to herself, he was gone and the bell was ringing shrilly, the halls empty.

"Damn," she muttered, and not only because she was late for class.

* * *

><p>"Do you ever stop reading?" Joanna looked up from her book. She was nestled in a leather chair next to one of the ten-foot-tall windows in the library while it poured rain outside. It was hopefully the last of the spring showers as June approached. It had been rainy or gloomy every day since the day Asher had found her.<p>

She'd been deeply absorbed in a novel when Asher had wandered in, glancing at her as he browsed a shelf.

"Nope," she replied with a smile. Remington had given her free range of the library, and she had a pile of books on her nightstand, too. She always managed to fall asleep with one in her hand. She doubted her love of books would ever change. She used to love school, and she supposed she still did because she always enjoyed Remington's classes, and even Asher's impromptu lessons during training or at dinner. She still grinned at the mention of Salvos demons. Asher really knew how to tell a story.

She watched for a moment as he peered at the books in front of him, looking completely at ease as he plucked two volumes off the shelf. He walked over to her and took a seat in the chair across from her, tossing one of the books in his hands on the small coffee table between them. His artfully mussed hair gleamed almost silver in the grey light.

"That one's good," he said.

"How long have you been at this Institute?" she asked suddenly. She wasn't too shy to ask questions any more; she'd gotten over _that_ weeks ago. And she realized that even though she considered him a friend – strangely enough, because _technically_ he was her kidnapper. She smirked at that – she didn't really know that much about him, other than general Shadowhunter knowledge. She was curious.

"A couple of years," he said, opening the book he was still holding.

"Years?" she exclaimed in surprise. He nodded, raising an eyebrow. She'd expected a couple of months at the most. That's what it sounded like when Remington had talked about him coming here. "Where were you before?"

"Calgary Institute," he replied. "In Alberta."

"Why'd you leave?"

"Remington told you," he said. "My mom sent me here."

"But why?"

"I was having some problems at school." His expression almost perfectly neutral as he answered, but she could tell this was something he did not want to talk about. She'd been learning how to read body language and pick up on little things. Asher himself had taught her most of the tricks, and there was something about the tightness in his eyes told her to leave it alone.

"When's my mom going to be back?" she asked, changing the subject. Not that she _didn't_ want to know what was going on with her mother. She saw him relax subtly.

"She got held up in Toronto. Something happened with the Seelie princess," Asher replied with a shrug. "Remington didn't say much about it."

"Faeries?" Joanna questioned. Asher nodded, and Jo frowned. "The Seelie Court is in Toronto?"

"No," Asher said. "The Seelie Court isn't really in any country. It just has entrances all over the world."

"Right."

"Really, haven't you been studying, Joanna?" he mock-scolded. She laughed.

"Yes," she said indignantly, playing along, and Asher grinned. Eventually her gaze shifted back to the window, silence falling between them. She watched as the waves of the ocean pounded against the rocks, sending up a white spray. It was beautiful, despite the bland grey sky. _Alex would have loved the view. Kirsten would have wanted to swim, of course._ The smile slipped off her face.

"Why am I here, Asher?" she asked quietly. She tore her gaze away from the water and looked at him. Asher looked up from the open book in his hands and met her eyes. He was about to say something when he suddenly shifted his gaze over her shoulder.

"All in due time, Joanna." It was Remington. Joanna looked over her shoulder at him.

"What do you mean?" she asked, brows furrowed.

"Everything will be explained when you're ready."

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><p><strong>Hey everybody! Thanks so all who reviewedread! Sorry this took so long to update! And I know this is a short one, but more is on the way very soon!**  
><strong>And yes, everything will be explained when you're ready :P<strong>

**- Cat**


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12 – Ready or Not**

"C'mon, is that all you've got?"

They were sparring. Asher grunted as she threw even more force behind her punch. He blocked her, but just barely. She was getting faster every day. It was exhilarating, like a complex, graceful dance as they went back and forth, dodging, attacking, and defending. Joanna had never played sports her entire life, but her muscles quickly became lean and toned from training every day.

The first time she'd been in this room, she'd been clumsy and weak. But she'd also made her first strong decision. Pain still occasionally ghosted around the hole in her chest, but she'd become very good at not thinking about it. And when she fought Asher, nothing else existed.

The playful expressions they'd started the sparring match with were gone now. Asher's face was serious. He no longer had to hold back now, and he looked almost pleased whenever she landed a good blow.

Asher ducked suddenly, reaching out to snag Joanna around the waist. He'd used the same move on her when he'd kidnapped her, what felt like a distant lifetime ago. For a split second Jo froze, and then she twisted, slamming her hands down to break his grip on her even as they both went tumbling to the mats. They rolled, and she dug one heel into the ground to stop them so she was on top with the advantage. She straddled his torso, holding his wrists in an iron grip against the floor.

Asher stopped struggling, but Joanna didn't let go. She may have been strong, but with his muscles of steel, Asher was still stronger. _Never underestimate your opponent, or drop your guard._ He'd taught her that. She doubted she'd overpowered him.

They both panted for breath and stared at each other. Joanna was tensed, ready for him to make the next move when something in the air changed. Jo was suddenly vividly aware of his body beneath her, chest rising and falling, the inches of space between them charged with intense heat. He grinned, sharp grey eyes watching her as she rolled off and slumped against the wall. Her cheeks were hot.

He sat up, running a hand through his hair. It was damp with sweat and stuck up in spikes. She looked away quickly, feeling strange for watching his bicep swell with the gesture.

Her heart jumped a moment later when he said, "You're ready."

* * *

><p>Asher handed Joanna the smooth grey stone, and it began to glow as soon as her fingers closed around it. It was <em>witchlight, <em>she knew now. A rune-stone. She slipped it into the pocket of her gear. She knew so much more now.

It wasn't the first time she'd put on the tough, black leather Shadowhunter gear, and she'd grown accustomed to it. It was lighter than it looked, even with multiple weapons, both concealed and in plain sight. She looked back up at Asher, and he nodded before turning to push the heavy oak doors of the Institute open. She followed his lead as they moved quietly outside.

The sun was just touching the ocean, dipping below the clouds, a soft dusk that made the shadows long and hazy. The air smelled damp and fresh, and the stone steps of the Institute were still wet with rain. They ghosted down the gravel driveway in silence. Just before they slipped under cover of trees, Joanna glanced back. The Institute rose behind her, tall and regal. Jo realized with a start that it was comforting in its ancient solidness, overshadowing her old haven, her room in her house. She wondered when she'd started thinking of the Institute as home.

They walked for nearly an hour as the sun was slowly extinguished by the waves in the west behind them. Asher navigated and Joanna became increasingly sure he knew every nook and cranny of the island. But she was surprised when they climbed a small ravine and found themselves on a flat, two-lane paved road.

"I thought I'd gotten them all," Asher said, his voice breaking the stillness in the half-light. "But a mundane died on the trails in this area a day ago. They said it was a wild dog attack." He met her eyes, his own eyes reflecting the pale blue twilight. She nodded, immediately understanding what he meant. _Caulker demon._ Her mouth set in determination. It was her job to find it and kill it.

She pulled out her Sensor and crossed the road. She opened her senses, listening as she treaded carefully through the forest. She listened intently to the sounds that reached her sharp ears: nocturnal animals, a car passing down the road behind them, Asher's quiet breathing as he followed her.

And then an eerie silence fell. The Sensor in her hand buzzed gently. Her heart pounded in her chest as she continued moving forward, until the Sensor was hot in her hand and vibrating almost painfully against her skin. She could just pick out through the trees and bushes a patch cleared by claws and a hole disappearing into the ground.

A low, menacing growl sounded through the forest.


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER 13 – Hunter **

Joanna drew a seraph blade, and called its name. It flared to life and burned like glowing ice. The demon, low on its haunches as it crept forward, leaped back with a hiss. Its eyes reflected the light with flashes of red. It stalked forward again, but didn't circle like she'd learned they were apt to do. That meant one thing.

Asher cursed behind her. "It's protecting its den," he muttered. From that she deduced that there must be more than one. She heard him pull out his own weapon, but it was all background noise. Her focus was on the creature in front of her. Its curved canines were wickedly sharp, and it growled again as it started stalking forward.

Her old fear scrabbled at the back of her mind, but she effectively shut it out. The demon tensed and sprang with a snarl. Joanna knocked it aside with the flat of her blade, a stiff blow to the side of its head. The motion was reflexive and packed with power. The demon fell to the side and skittered back, claws tearing up moist soil and dead leaves.

This time Jo attacked, slashing with her blade. She caught it across its muzzle and it screeched, lashing out with claws. Joanna jumped back, but it caught the edge of her gear and sliced a hole in her pants with ease, like a hot knife through butter. Her stomach contracted.

She was breathing fast, her whole body tensed and singing with adrenaline. She could smell the acrid demon-scent, like poisonous decay. The light was fading fast, the forest quickly filling with darkness. Joanna attacked again, and it reared up, snarling, teeth dripping. It went for her throat and she struck out with her blade, plunging it deep into the demon's chest. It crumpled, folding in on itself into nothing. Joanna's heart soared with her victory.

But a howl echoed through the trees and it took Joanna a moment to realize the noise hadn't come from the demon she just killed.

There was no time to celebrate her success. A second Caulker had crept to the edge of the hole, eyes flashing red, and leaped out at Jo as soon as the other was killed. Joanna barely had time to raise her blade–she wasn't going to make it–

Asher suddenly stepped in front of her, graceful as a dancer, and kicked the demon aside. _Of course, he'd had her back the whole time._ Even though Joanna was grateful he'd just stepped in, she was glad he'd let her kill the first on her own. But there wasn't a spare moment to think about it. The demon attacked again, going for Asher this time. There was desperation in its movements, and it was much more aggressive than the first. Asher blocked it and Joanna slashed at the demon's side, black blood spilling over her blade.

It snarled and snapped at Joanna, but she twisted out of the way and Asher took her place, attacking swiftly. It was just like when they sparred, but this was perfect teamwork, perfect focus and balance of each other's movement. It felt amazing, like second nature. She met his gaze for a split second and they both _grinned_ as they attacked in unison. A textbook term Remington had taught her flashed in her mind. _Parabatai_. She jumped in when the demon clawed at Asher and knocked the blade from his hand.

But something was different about this demon from the first, she realized suddenly.

"_Move_!" Asher shouted, and Joanna jumped back. Facts ran through her head, the way they did after she'd studied long and hard for a test. _Female Caulker demons have long, whip-like tails, composed mostly of muscle and skin coated with mucus. The barb at the end of the tail is made of the same material as its claws–_

Joanna was a second too late. Its tail wrapped around her forearm half a dozen times and jerked tight, the needle-sharp claw at the end digging into her wrist, right where her pulse beat. She cried out and fell to her knees as pain shot up her arm and into her chest, her skin burning. Her seraph blade fell from her hand as the tail tightened and bit into her skin, blood welling up and making her arm slick.

Asher's dagger flew, end over end, and severed the tail with a neat _snick_. Black blood sprayed from the end and the part around her arm went limp, sliding to the ground with a dead thump.

The demon let out a high pitched shriek that grated against her eardrums. The stump of what was left of its tail was lashing and splattering more black blood. Joanna's own blood ran down her arm, a red glove, and dripped from her fingers. The demon leapt for Joanna, still shrieking.

"JOANNA!" Asher was running, reaching to pull out a weapon, but he would never make it in time. Jo's knees sank into the wet earth as she picked up her blade in her left hand. Time slowed as she brought it up in an arching streak of icy light and sheared right through the Caulker demon's throat.

Its momentum caused the body to collapse on top her, throwing her back. Burning black blood splashed across her neck and a long, canine tooth brushed her cheek for an instant before the demon vanished, leaving only the faint stench of fleshy decay.

Joanna lay there, panting and staring up at the leaves of the trees blowing in a faint breeze, seraph blade still clutched in her left hand. _Who knew training ambidextrously would come in handy? _she thought with the ghost of an almost hysterical smile.

Her arm throbbed a steady beat, streaming blood. Her chest rose and fell as she gasped for breath, light-headed. Her cheek was cut, and the demon blood burned.

_But she was alive. She had done it. She'd killed her first demon. And her second, with some help._

"Joanna." Asher was by her side, and she struggled to sit up. His face was streaked with dirt and ichor, but no blood. His grey eyes were wide with concern as he reached for her. She gasped and hissed in pain when he touched her injured arm, jerking it away from him.

"Sorry, sorry," he said, almost frantic. "But I have to get the stinger out." Joanna looked down, and with faint nauseating feeling she realized the clawed end of the tail was still imbedded in her skin, even while the rest of the tail had fallen off.

"It's not poisonous, is it?" she asked, forcing the words out through the pain.

"No," he replied, and with a sharp yank he pulled it free, more blood gushing. Joanna's head spun dizzily.

"I really don't want to bleed to death, Asher," she said breathlessly, finding it hard to focus.

"Not after that amazing display of kick-ass skill," he agreed, and she smiled faintly. His stele was out and closed her eyes against the burning. When she opened her eyes the world focused again, some of the pain dissipating. Her arm was no longer bleeding, but it was red and raw, still bloody and painful. The burns from the demon blood stung.

Asher helped her to her feet. Cradling her arm, she looked up at him and grinned.

"You're right," she said. "I kicked ass." He laughed, loud and carefree, and the stupid grin never left her face. Then she gritted her teeth as her arm jostled. "How come it still hurts?"

His laughter faded. "Don't worry," he said. "I know just the trick to make it feel better. C'mon, follow me."


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey everyone! I'm really sorry this took so long; I had a mojor case of writer' block and just... LIFE to deal with. Anyway, sorry. And if you're reading this, thanks for staying with me. Enjoy.**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 14 – Sea of Stars<strong>

The full moon hung in a sea of stars, so bright that with her Shadowhunter vision, every detail was clear. The sand looked like white gold in the celestial light, the water lapping quietly against the shore. The ocean was calm, stretching to the horizon where it kissed the diamond-studded sky. Joanna stopped and stared. For a moment she forgot the pain in her bruised body.

She looked over at the sound of a soft thud beside her. Asher had taken off his gear, leaving him barefoot in a dirty t-shirt and jeans. She blinked.

"What–?"

"The saltwater will help," he said.

Silence fell over them as Joanna untied her boots and struggled to pull them off. She worked to stand again; pain spiked in her arm and made her gasp until Asher scooped her up and set her on her feet. She opened her mouth to say thank you but he was already unbuckling her gear and carefully sliding it off in a way that made her stomach feel light.

When she was in her tank top and jeans, he reached behind her and gently pulled out her ponytail. She took a sharp breath as her hair tumbled across her shoulders and his fingers lingered, brushing it back and tracing lightly down the sides of her face. She was barely aware of anything else but his grey eyes, gleaming silver in the moonlight. They were standing so close, close enough for Joanna to feel the heat radiating off of him through his thin shirt.

He dropped his hands and stepped back. The cool night air caressed her bare shoulders and played with a few strands of her hair. Her bare feet sank into the warm sand. She shivered, looking out at the ocean again. The world seemed frozen, beautifully still and silent, like nothing existed outside this moment.

When she looked back she saw that he'd turned to the side and was pulling his shirt off over his head. The gesture was almost self-conscious, and she found herself watching the muscles in his back flex. His Marks were strong and dark, curling against his skin. He didn't look back at her as he headed for the water.

She followed.

The water was strangely warm, lapping against her toes and soaking the hem of her jeans. Asher stopped when he was thigh-deep, turning to look at her. She waded out to him, feeling the water crawl up her legs and sooth her aching body, just as he'd said. She reached out to him, almost wondering if he was real, if this was a dream; he made it easy to believe Nephilim really were the descendants of angels.

He took her hands and she willingly let herself be drawn into deeper water, until the sway of the tide lifted her off her feet.

* * *

><p><em>His lips were warm and soft, pressing against hers in a way that made her stomach drop out of her, a sensation of falling, so good it left her breathless. She could feel the firmness of his body pressed against hers, the circle of his strong arms around her. Heat rose in her, and she only wanted to be closer– <em>

_And then _he_ ran through her mind. _Alex_. Jo pulled away with a gasp, feeling stricken. _

"_Are you…?" Asher began, but he didn't finish. His eyes, dark with desire, turned hard at the expression on her face. Joanna took a stumbling step back, water dragging at her clothes. A chill replaced the heat, shivering down to her bones. _Alex_. Her trembling stomach felt as though it had been swallowed whole by the hole in her heart. _Alex_._

"_I… I can't," she stammered in a whisper, backing away. "I'm sorry."_

Alex_. _

* * *

><p>Joanna jerked awake, gasping. The dream had been so vivid it took her a moment to sort out what was reality.<p>

Asher and Jo had shared an intimate moment on that beach, floating in the ocean. She could still feel her hands in his. It was a moment she would never forget, a moment she'd never felt with anyone else. It set off a longing in her body but an aching in her heart at the same time.

They'd walked back to the Institute in comfortable silence, not saying a word until Asher had pulled her against him smoothly and murmured a quiet goodnight, leaving her standing dazedly outside her door.

She sat up in bed, pushing back her messy hair with a shiver at the potent memory. Slipping out of bed, her bare feet struck to cold floor with a dull thud. Just like very other morning, she left her room and padded down the hall in her tank top and flannel pyjama pants. She grimaced as she moved; her body still ached from the beating it had taken the night before, despite the runes and ocean water. She hadn't been able to find her own stele, the one Asher had given her the day she arrived, and was reluctant to get a new one from the weapons room.

"Asher?" she called as she walked into the dining room for breakfast, stretching her arms above her head with her eyes squeezed shut for a moment as she yawned. He was usually up before her. "Have you seen my stele? I can't find–"

"_Joanna?"_

Jo's eyes snapped open and she froze. Asher stood against the far wall, looking pale and sullen. Remington was standing at the end of the table, eyes wide and looking uncomfortable. In front of him stood a tall, willowy woman with her hair pulled back severely in a bun.

"_Mom?"_ Joanna exclaimed, dropping her arms to her sides. She simultaneously wanted to run to her mother and yell at her. Something in her mother's face stopped her from doing either.

Patricia Devereau looked horrified, staring at the raw red wounds circling Joanna's right forearm, the demon-blood burns, the purpling bruises. "It's not as bad as it looks," Jo told her mom reassuringly, before she realized that Patricia looked even more overwhelmed at the sight of the Marks of Jo's skin.

"What else haven't you told me, John?" she said sharply to Remington.

"Why didn't you ever tell _me_?" Joanna asked her mother just as sharply, even though she had no idea what Patricia and Remington had been talking about. Jo was referring to her Nephilim heritage. Patricia was a kind woman with intense drive – something Joanna understood well because she herself was much the same. But it hurt to know her mother has purposefully kept this from her.

"I thought your inner eye was blind," her mother replied, looking troubled.

"Yes," Jo replied. "A rune of my shoulder took my Sight away. YOU put it there."

"No," her mother said. "I would have never taken away from you what you are–" She broke off suddenly. Joanna kept her face impassive. Joanna knew Patricia well; she could see her mother's passion for Shadowhunting clearly. She remembered all the things they'd shared – but never this. _Maybe Jo didn't know her mother so well after all._ Patricia looked dazedly pained.

"Joshua," she whispered, and Jo blinked at the sound of her father's name, breaking her carefully composed expression.

"What does Dad have to do with this?"

"Your father," Patricia began after a pause, "never liked this life, never got satisfaction from it. He hated the danger, the killing; he said it was no world to raise a child in, no matter how badly we wanted one. I thought that was because of his own unhappy childhood. He was as distraught as he was joyous when you were born. And he was so relieved when you couldn't see the Shadow World… but I never suspected him to blind you himself."

Joanna stared at her mother. She'd been angry at her mother for blocking her Sight, but now she could see how wholly Patricia believed in the Shadowhunter's mission and principles, and how she'd wanted to raise her child the same way.

"I had to keep you safe," Patricia said. "Without the Sight, you were helpless. But I couldn't tell you about the Shadow World." Her mother looked upset, eyes pleading. "I'm sorry, honey."

"It's okay Mom, I understand," Jo said, hugging her mother. Patricia hugged back tightly. For a moment Jo let herself relax in the arms of what was familiar and good. She breathed in her mother's scent, something that never changed. It was comforting. But when they broke apart, Patricia suddenly looked stern and Jo almost laughed at the motherly expression.

"What happened to your arm, young lady?"

"Female Caulker demon," Jo replied with a proud smile. "I killed it and its mate." She glanced at Asher. "Asher helped a little," she admitted, smiling at him. He met her eyes for a moment before looking away without returning her grin. Her own smile faded in response and she looked back at her mother, who was staring down Remington again.

"Why is my daughter here, John?" she asked. Joanna focused all her attention on Remington. This was something she wanted to know since she arrived, and finally she would get her answer. Remington looked vaguely nervous as he replied.

"There is a rogue Shadowhunter in the area," he said, "wanted for the crime of killing another Nephilim." Patricia furrowed her slim eyebrows. It was strange for Joanna to see the man she knew as her mentor addressing her mother as though she were his superior. With a start, she realized that Patricia probably _was_ Remington's boss, if what Asher said about her high standing in the Clave was true. Then Remington cleared his throat and explained.

"The rogue is a child, seventeen years old, and he killed his father."


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey guys! I'm SOOOO happy with all the amazing positive feedback in the reviews. THANK YOU SO MUCH! Since then, I've been writing up a storm!**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 15 – Storm<strong>

"I fail to see how that involves Joanna," Patricia said. "We must track him down–"

"But that is where Joanna comes in," Remington said, his confidence returning. "We have strong reason to believe the rogue boy is in her school, and has been for a while, posing under a false name. With the training she has had, Joanna is prepared to go back to school and seek him out."

Joanna stared at Remington, meeting his gaze and straightening her back. She was strong and trained and her mentor had confidence in her to do this. She'd killed two demons last night. She was Nephilim. She would do her part. She ignored tightness in her chest – she would protect her friends from the killer in their midst. Nothing else mattered. _Don't think about seeing them again, don't think about how you didn't say goodbye to Kirsten, don't think about how you broke Alex's heart–_

"What?" Asher exclaimed, pushing off the wall. "You're sending her _now_? She's only been training for a month! This guy killed his father. Don't you think he's dangerous? We agreed that she would go when she was ready–"

"And it is you, Asher, who has been telling me of the extraordinary progress Joanna has been making–" Remington began.

"You said yourself I was ready!" Joanna exclaimed indignantly to Asher, feeling hurt. Asher frowned angrily, opening his mouth to respond, but Patricia's voice cut through the air, silencing him.

"You'll be her backup, Asher. It will be easier for Joanna because she's already registered at the school and integrated into the school community. We'll discuss more of this in detail later." her tone was final, and ASher shut his mouth, looking away. Then Patricia looked at Joanna, her expression changing into a challenging smile. "Let's see how far you've gotten in this training," she said. Joanna grinned.

"Prepare yourself, Mom. I'm not helpless anymore."

* * *

><p>"Very good, honey," Patricia said, smiling. "I'm so proud of you." Joanna slowly eased of her defensive stance, dropping her arms to her sides. She was panting slightly, wiping away the light sweat that had broken out on her forehead.<p>

"Thanks Mom," she said as she caught her breath and grinned. "Not so bad yourself." Her mother laughed. They'd been sparring in the training room and Patricia had been testing Joanna's skills. Jo had been slightly nervous to spar with her mom, but everything else had quickly fallen away as it always did when she was fighting. Her mother was incredibly fast and strong, and Joanna had the annoying feeling she'd held back, which only motivated Jo to do better.

"Asher trained you well," Patricia mused, her mouth turning down slightly.

"Yeah, he did," Joanna said emphatically as they walked across the training room, heading for the door. That was a good thing, wasn't it? So why did her mother seem unhappy? "What's wrong, Mom?"

"Did Asher tell you why he was here?" Patricia asked her suddenly.

"He said he was having trouble at school," Jo replied. "And his mom sent him here to stay with his uncle for a while." Patricia's expression didn't change; Jo was confused. "Was that not the truth?"

"Everyone is entitled to their secrets, Joanna," her mother said. "But some secrets are bigger than others."

"What do you mean?" Joanna asked, her stomach feeling strange. "Did Asher lie to me? Mom?" Her mother stopped in front of the door and looked at her, taking her all in without replying.

"You've grown up into a beautiful young woman, Joanna," she said, pulling Joanna in for a hug. "And I'm so happy I can share this part of my life with you now."

"Me too, Mom," Jo replied sincerely, returning the hug. "But what–"

"I have to finish some paperwork, so I'll see you later, okay honey?" Patricia said, letting Joanna go. Her mother smiled at her, but somehow the smile was inexplicably sad. Joanna opened her mouth to ask about Asher but the words wouldn't come.

And then her mother was gone.

* * *

><p>Joanna easily navigated the rough path down the steep slope through the trees. She could hear the ocean pounding against the shore, the breeze carrying the faint smell of salt. Through a break in the trees Joanna could see clouds were gathering on the horizon, dark grey and heavy with rain. And there was Asher, standing all alone on the beach at the bottom of a tumble of rocks. Frowning, Jo plunged into the forest again, taking off down the path at a run. She slowed as the roots and dirt turned to sand, the winding forest path opening up into the expanse of the shoreline.<p>

"Asher," she called hesitantly as she neared him. He was facing the sea, watching the rough water. He didn't reply, but she saw the tightness in his shoulders and knew that he'd heard her. She walked forward until she was beside him and they stood together for a moment. She glanced at his profile, but his expression was impassive.

"Asher?" she began tentatively. He didn't answer right away.

"Climbing these rocks is good training," he finally said, turning to put a hand on the damp stone, hoisting himself up. Joanna blinked in surprise and quickly began climbing up after him, feeling she had no other choice but to follow. He led her up ever-higher, far above the crashing ocean waves. Then he disappeared over a rock and a moment later Joanna joined him, pulling herself up over the edge.

The ledge had just enough space for them to sit side by side, shoulders brushing. From there they watched the gathering storm over the water.

"My mom married a mundane," Asher suddenly said, keeping his gaze forward. There was a beat of silence.

"But Shadowhunters can't–" Joanna began in confusion, even after taking a moment to process what he'd said.

"No, they can't. But she did, and she left the Clave to do it," he said. Joanna stayed quiet this time, and he looked at her. She was trapped by the anguish in his grey eyes. "She gave me a choice, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't follow her. This life is all I know; I could never be anything else."

"She left you," Jo whispered.

"Yeah," he said bitterly, his gaze turning steely and looking out to the ocean again. "She said one day when I knew love I would understand why she did it. I told her not to contact me ever again."

She opened her mouth to say _I'm so sorry_, but it wouldn't come. What comfort was that? She swallowed hard, but couldn't stop herself from asking.

"And your dad?"

"Died in battle," he replied. "When I was seven." _Oh god_. But Asher wasn't done; he finished explaining briskly. "So that's why I was having issues at school. People started asking questions about my mom. There's only so long you can hide something like that. It was humiliating." Of course, when you were schooled at an Institute, people would notice if a Shadowhunter suddenly ran off with a mundane, and that wasn't exactly behaviour that was smiled upon. But Joanna could see the pain in his eyes along with the shame and betrayal. _He had lost both his parents._

"Asher," she started softly, but he was looking away again.

"You _are_ ready," he said abruptly. "I was just worried."

"Oh," she replied softly, feeling warm suddenly. She hadn't realized how much Asher's support meant to her.

"I've got your back," he continued, looking back down at her with a half-smile, the pain in his eyes now undetectable. She knew it was still there, something he would always carry with him, but she smiled back. The word flashed through her head again: _parabatai_.

But the moment stretched, their eyes locked. She was frozen as he reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair blown by the wind away from her face. The roiling dark storm clouds were above them now, the ocean crashing against the rocks below and sending up a salty spray. Asher cupped her face with his hand and leaned in. Her eyes slipped closed as his mouth met hers.

The kiss was everything she'd dreamed.

And then thunder cracked across the dark sky just as the first few drops of rain fell. Asher pulled away slowly and her breath left her in a soft sigh as she opened her eyes, their faces still only inches away. Thunder boomed again, and there was a flash as lightning slashed across the sky, reaching toward the sea with blinding spindly fingers. The ocean was tossed with white-crested waves as the wind picked up speed. Asher glanced up and Joanna leaned back.

"C'mon," he said, taking her hand as they stood. "Follow me." She glanced behind her at the rising storm as they quickly scaled the rocks. They hit the path running just as the sky opened up and drenched them with pouring, driving rain. Lightning lit up the sky and thunder echoed. "Hurry!" Asher shouted, taking her hand. his palm was fever-hot against hers. They ran together, side by side, and burst into the Institute, slamming the solid oak doors shut behind them.

They were both soaked and panting. Jo let her back hit the door and slid down to sit on the ground; Asher was bent over with his hands on his knees. Both of them dripped on the stone floor. After a moment Asher straightened and Joanna looked up at him. As soon as their eyes met, neither of them could stop the laughter.

It slowly died away a moment later, and Asher held a hand out to help her up. Jo took it and got to her feet, but he didn't let go once she was standing. Her mind was strangely blank, no thought processing, but her cheeks felt warm and her mouth curved into a shy smile. Every other part of life, past, present, and future, was a million miles away as they walked down the aisle and into through the back doors of the church.

Foreboding thunder shook the building and just as the door closed behind them, lightning lighting up the stained glass window of the rising Angel with a glaring white flash.


	16. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER 16 – Hold On**

Joanna looked in the mirror as she fingered the hem of her shirt, trying to be objective as she analyzed her reflection. Her mom had taken her shopping on the far side of the island, and she had bought Joanna an entire new wardrobe. Jo had never had clothes like this before, but she liked the look. Her ripped jeans clung to her legs, and she felt badass in her leather jacket and boots.

She reached up to touch her hair; it was smooth as silk and fell in loose waves, thanks to the products her mom had finished putting in a few minutes ago. It had been a while since she'd gotten it cut, so it was long and voluminous. She stood straight and confident, despite the bleak terror inside her. How could she do this? How could she face her friends, her ex-boyfriend? Her mouth twisted grimly. _Kirsten, Alex._ She smoothed the expression quickly with practiced ease. She had to be able to lie. She couldn't – she _wouldn't_ – bring them into this. She'd gotten very good at ignoring the faint painful echo of her heartbeat in her chest. It was easy to pretend it wasn't there; strangely enough, when she was with Asher, it ceased to exist.

She leaned into the mirror, holding the mascara wand carefully. Her hand trembled slightly as she brushed it through her eyelashes, trying not to think of the countless times Kirsten had done this to her at one of their monthly sleepovers. She swallowed hard and leaned back. For a second she couldn't breath, unable to remember where she'd put her glasses. The momentary panic dissipated, leaving her with a feeling of unease. Her glasses hadn't been on her when she'd been kidnapped, and she'd long since gotten rid of the contacts she'd had in at the time. Of course, she had perfect sight after getting her Marks and no longer needed them.

She stepped back, her heels tapping against the hardwood as she crossed the room and slung her backpack over her shoulder. _I can do this_, she told herself firmly. _I am strong. _

"You clean up nice, Devereau." Joanna turned quickly to find Asher leaning against her doorframe. She scowled at him, and he knocked mockingly against the open door before walking in. He tossed something at her that she caught automatically. "You left that in the weapons room," he said.

She held her stele in her hands, smooth and faintly warm. She hadn't put on any fresh Marks this morning. She looked at it her a second before slipping it into her jacket pocket. Asher was now lounging across her bed, watching her with his silver-grey eyes.

"Thanks," Jo murmured. It had been two days since the kiss, and neither of them had said a word about it. Joanna sometimes thought she'd imagined it, but the memory was so real it was impossible to question. She remembered every second vividly.

"When are we going?" she asked Asher, shaking herself out of her thoughts.

"Soon," he replied. "Remington and your mom wanted to talk to us first. Are you ready?" Joanna nodded, her fingers tightening her grip on strap of her backpack. Asher sat up, swinging off the bed, running a hand through his hair. "Let's go."

Jo followed Asher down the hall to the kitchen. Her mother was standing there, looking alert and put-together as always. Remington was also there, conversing with her quietly. When Asher and Joanna walked in, he looked up and smiled broadly at them.

"Good morning," he said.

"Morning," Asher and Jo replied simultaneously.

"Would you like some breakfast?" Remington asked. Joanna shook her head. Her stomach felt like it had shrivelled up to the size of a dried pea. The mere thought of food made her nauseous. Asher plucked an apple out of the bowl on the table and took a bite.

"You should eat something, honey," Patricia said.

"I'm not hungry, Mom," she said. Her mother nodded knowingly.

"I know you're nervous, but you need food for energy," she said.

"I–" Joanna started to object to being nervous, but it was useless.

"You'll do great," her mom encouraged, smiling. "This is easy as pie compared to Caulker demons," Patricia joked. Joanna smiled back, straightening her back and taking a deep breath. _This would be easy._ But it wasn't the danger she was nervous about. She could feel Asher watching her carefully, but she kept her expression under tight control. Still, she had the feeling he could see right through her.

"So, give me a brief on your mission," Remington ordered.

"We go in, I drop Joanna off, Joanna finds the rogue Nephilim boy, we call you," Asher said easily, taking another bite of his apple.

"It may not be that simple," Remington warned. "It may take a while to find the boy, especially if he recognizes Joanna as a Shadowhunter."

"I'll be careful," Joanna said. Remington nodded, and her mother smiled again.

"Can we go?" Asher asked abruptly, impatient. Remington sighed with a half-smile.

"Yes, you may go," he said. Asher was already walking out the door, tossing the half-eaten apple in the trash as he went, but Joanna paused, looking towards her mother.

"Have a good day at school, honey," Patricia said, like it was any other day. And Jo knew that's exactly how she had to treat it. _Like any other day._ Because this was her life now, as a Shadowhunter. This was what she'd wanted.

"See you later, Mom." And then she followed Asher out the door.

* * *

><p>"You can't be serious!" Joanna stared at the sleek, shiny black metal of the motorcycle. Asher raised an eyebrow, his mouth twisting into a smirk. "<em>This<em> is what we're riding to go to school?"

"What, are you _scared_, Devereau?" he asked challengingly. She snatched the helmet he held out to her from his hands, but glanced down at the bike doubtfully.

"Do you even know how to drive it?" she asked as he pulled on his leather jacket over his long-sleeve grey shirt and jeans. His eyes sparkled mischievously as he grabbed his own helmet off the seat.

"Are you doubting my skills, Joanna?" he asked in mock outrage. She rolled her eyes.

"Of course not, Oh Great One," she said sarcastically. But her heart was jittery in her chest as she watched him swing one leg over the bike and sit down.

"C'mon, get on," he said, prompting Jo to follow his lead. She raised an eyebrow at the sliver of space behind him. _I have to sit there?_

"How will I fit?" she muttered as she got on the motorcycle.

"Snugly," he said, and he was right. Her chest was pressed against his back and she could feel his warmth through both their jackets. A new heat bloomed across her cheeks. She wasn't sure where to put her hands.

"Don't worry Joanna, I'm an excellent driver," he said as he started the bike. It growled and rumbled beneath them. He manoeuvred his way out of the Institute's garage carefully and they made their way out of the cool shadow of the stone building. The air was still fresh and clear from the huge storm a few days ago. The sun was shining and Joanna could feel its warmth immediately beating down on the black leather of her jacket, only a few puffy white clouds floating in the cerulean sky. But as the gravel of the winding driveway crunched beneath the bike's tires, Joanna felt unstable.

"Um, Asher, where do I–"

"Hold on!" he shouted over the roar of the engine as the bike suddenly leaped forward. Stones sprayed out behind them as Asher turned onto the paved road. Joanna had never been this far away from the Institute, except for in the forest. This road had a single yellow line down the middle and was utterly deserted, with trees rising on both sides. Asher was clearly not concerned by the speed limit.

Joanna found herself clinging to Asher tightly around the waist, grabbing his belt. She swore loudly as he sped up, and felt his laughter through his back. Air rushed past them, the pavement disappearing at an alarming speed beneath them. Joanna's eyes were wide, her whole body tensed as adrenaline jolted through her. Slowly her heart calmed slightly; she found herself enjoying the ride, and noticed other things. The scenery was slowly changing around them as Asher drove through the main city, Victoria. She couldn't tear her eyes away.

The deep blue ocean glittered in the sunlight as Joanna stared out at it from the bridge. Asher was taking her off Vancouver Island.

And closer and closer to Westbrook Public High.

* * *

><p><strong>OKay, okay, so the motorcycle thing has been done before. I couldn't resist. Sorry if it was a little boring. Anyway, thanks for reading and please review! YOU GUYS ROCK!<strong>


	17. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER 17 – Arrival**

All the weeks of training would go into this, everything Jo had learned. She could see the crowds of students milling about, dozens of familiar faces surrounding a squat, red-bricked building that she knew _very_ well. Her heart was very nearly in her throat, and _not_ because of Asher's driving.

People turned and stared as he pulled into the drop-off zone in front of the school. Joanna forced herself to unlock her muscles and get off the bike smoothly. Every sense was sharp and alert, all the while portraying perfect nonchalance. _Like any other day. _She could feel the slight weight of her backpack vividly.

She pulled off her helmet and shook out her hair as she handed it to Asher where he still sat on the silent motorcycle. He took it, tucking it swiftly in the compartment under the seat.

"Thanks for the ride, Asher," Jo said, grinning and trying to feel steady. Asher had pulled off his own helmet, running a hand through his hair as he grinned back momentarily.

"No problem," he said. She moved to turn away, but he caught her arm, his smile gone. "You're strong, Jo. You're ready," he continued, his grey eyes catching hers and holding on. "But don't forget that I've got your back." She gazed back at him, wide-eyed, words escaping her. _He can see right through me._ But she nodded firmly, strengthened by his faith in her and his support.

"See you later," she murmured. He nodded, letting her go and pulling on his helmet again. He started the bike, giving her one last look before snarling into motion with aggressive speed as he took off out of the school lot.

Joanna turned and faced the school without hesitation, head held high against the stares and whispers, and walked confidently and calmly into the mouth of the beast.

* * *

><p>Kirsten had pretty much given up hope.<p>

It had been over a month. The homework stacked on her desk was piling precariously high. There was not a single reply to any of her countless text and calls. Joanna's house was dark and locked up tight, without the car in the driveway.

She really was gone.

At least Alex had finally begun showing up for class again, and he wasn't going to be expelled for missing so much school. Principle McAllen had been lenient, which was a relief. If Alex disappeared too, Kirsten would definitely go crazy. She'd already had a mild heart attack when Alex didn't show up for school one day, completely chewing him out the next morning.

But what scared her the most, more than when he didn't show up, more than when she found him working out fanatically in the gym, were the mornings she could smell alcohol on him, however faintly.

She was trudging to English class as she pondered this, the only class she had without him. A month ago Kirsten was chronically late for class because she was constantly distracted by chatting with her friends in the halls. Now she was only ever early to class, sometimes the first one there. All her other friends had backed off after Joanna left, unsure how to handle Kirsten's wild downward spiral. Kirsten didn't blame them. She knew she was a mess.

And that's when Kirsten spotted _her_.

Kirsten had begun to hate walking to this class because Joanna's locker was right down the hall. And every day for a month that locker stood closed, a constant reminder. Except today. Today it was open, and there was a girl standing in front of it. The girl was slipping off her black leather jacket, revealing the silvery-grey tank top underneath. She was tall, height added by the heels on her velvet black ankle boots. She had long, shiny brown hair, and her body was lean and slim.

And so familiar.

Kirsten stopped in her tracks, feeling as though the breath had been knocked out of her. The girl had finished putting her jacket away and was sliding books out of the locker and into her bag before slamming the locker shut. Kirsten's eyes zeroed in on the charm dangling off the zipper of the backpack as the girl closed it and slung it over her shoulder. Kirsten had made that charm in grade nine and had given it to her best friend.

The girl turned.

_It was her._

_Joanna._

She was walking calmly down the hall with long, confident strides. Kirsten gaped. There was something different about her movement, a new smoothness or grace. Her shoulders were back, her head held high. Joanna had always been pretty, but right now she looked… _beautiful_. And somehow… _dangerous_.

Kirsten's heart pounded.

"Joanna…" It was a dry, choked whisper, but Jo's head turned right in her direction with searching eyes. Even something in her _eyes_ had changed. Kirsten was frozen, and Jo stopped dead in her tracks. A million emotions flickered across her face, too fast for Kirsten to decipher before her expression settled into an easy smile.

"Kirsten," she said.

Kirsten couldn't stop herself. Jo was _here_. Jo was _back_! Kirsten dropped her bag and flung herself at Joanna, throwing her arms around the other girl in a fierce hug. Joanna caught her easily, hugging back tightly. She _smelled_ the same, but her body was subtly different. Stronger, firmer. Not as soft as Kirsten remembered. Like she'd been working out.

And then all the pain and fury rose up in Kirsten. She pulled back with a hard jerk.

"_How could you?"_ Joanna's face fell, her lips pressing tightly together and her entire face closing off. That only made Kirsten angrier.

"You left, without a word! You didn't answer any calls, any texts, you broke Alex's heart!" _And mine too!_ Kirsten wanted to scream. She struck out blindly at Joanna, hot tears blurring her vision. People in the hall were probably staring, but Kirsten didn't care. She hurt too much to care.

Joanna's hands shot out and grabbed her wrists before Kirsten could hit her and pulled them down to Kirsten's sides with a strength Kirsten didn't think she had, and shoved Kirsten backwards into an empty classroom. And yet, every firm touch was gentle.

"Kirsten," Joanna said again, pain cracking through her voice. Kirsten sagged against her friend, sobbing now. She sucked in air and desperately tried to stop the tears while Joanna held her.

"What?" she said roughly.

"I'm so sorry," Joanna replied, pulling back from her so Kirsten could see her face. "My mom surprised me with a trip to Europe. I couldn't say no, and can you believe I managed to lose my phone in the airport the second we landed?" She laughed a bit, shaking her head ruefully as she let go of Kirsten. Kirsten took a second to process this, swallowing hard and scrubbing the tears off her face.

"But why… why did you break up with Alex?" Kirsten asked, hating how her voice sounded small and pitiful.

"I…" Jo's face became distant, looking away. "I just couldn't handle long distance like that. I wasn't sure how long the trip would last. My mom kept the next destinations a secret. I thought it would be better for both of us."

"Well, you thought _wrong_!" Kirsten exclaimed, standing up straight again. Her emotions were dipping and rising and falling all over the place, out of control as usual. "It's been horrible! You _killed_ him, Jo! He _loved_ you!" Joanna swallowed hard, but her eyes were still very far away.

"I know," she said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"Saying sorry to _me_ doesn't make it better. He needs to see you," Kirsten said, starting to move.

"_No_," Joanna replied immediately, with so much force that Kirsten halted in her tracks. Joanna suddenly met her eyes, very _there _in the conversation. "I just… can't yet," she continued, her voice calmer. "But I will talk to him, okay Kir?"

"Okay," Kirsten mumbled, suddenly feeling bad for getting so upset at Joanna the moment she arrived back. It wasn't really fair of Kirsten. It wasn't Joanna's fault she'd disappeared. She pulled Jo in for another hug.

"I'm glad you're back, Jo," she whispered. It was true, she was extremely happy Joanna was back. But at the same time, there was a slight stirring of unease in Kirsten's stomach. Something had changed about Joanna. Something was different. And somehow, it scared Kirsten.

But Jo just replied, "Me too," and hugged her back.

* * *

><p><strong>Prepare yourself for some fun from Kirsten's point of view. I hope you like her!<strong>


	18. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER 18 – Europe **

They walked to class like it was any other day. English was the only class Kirsten had with Joanna, second period, right before lunch. The seat beside her had been achingly empty the past month, and now it was finally full again. Kirsten watched as Joanna spoke quietly to the teacher at the front of the class, smiling. English had been her favourite subject–

English _was_ her favourite subject, not _had been_. This was Joanna she was talking about. Kirsten's best friend. Kirsten knew her inside and out. But as she watched Jo's lithe legs stride towards her, ignoring the whispers and stares of the other students, a small insistent feeling told Kirsten that she didn't. Not anymore. Kirsten banished that thought immediately.

"Everything's all set," Jo said as she took her seat. "Mr. Steiner said _you_ have all my homework…?"

"Yeah, it's all as my house," Kirsten said. "Come and… pick it up after school?" The sentence abruptly changed into a question. She'd never had to ask before, but Kirsten suddenly found herself unsure.

"Of course," Joanna replied easily, pulling out her notebook and a pen. Kirsten nodded, taking out her own binder and mumbling, "Of course."

Mr. Steiner started lecturing and Kirsten deftly pulled out a piece of lined paper. She looked up at Jo, who was watching the board. That was when it hit her. Kirsten shot up in her seat.

"Joanna, your glasses!" she exclaimed. Her heart pounded with the irrational fear, like she'd suddenly discovered it really _wasn't_ her best friend sitting the the seat beside her. The class fell silent, Mr. Steiner turning from the board. Jo looked at Kirsten, startled and then amused.

"I got contacts, Kir," she said. Kirsten immediately felt stupid. Of course. _Of course._ She just got contacts. Mr. Steiner cleared his throat as if to say, _Are you done?_

"Sorry," Kirsten muttered, feeling her face turn red as she lowered her eyes to her desk. The lesson started up again, titters from the other students fading slowly. Kirsten kept her eyes down for a few long minutes, getting a hold of herself. _What's _wrong_ with me? _But that stupid little uneasy feeling wouldn't go away. She settled for ignoring it resolutely.

Then she wrote on the paper in front of her, steadily enough, **How was Europe?** and slid the page onto the corner of Jo's desk. Hardly interrupting her actual note-taking, Jo scrawled words under her own.

_It was beautiful._

Beautiful. That was it?

**Details!** Kirsten wrote. **Where in Europe did you go?**

_Everywhere,_ Jo replied. _Italy, France, Spain, London, Greece…_

**Wow.**

Joanna glanced at Kirsten's words but didn't reply, seeming absorbed in what Mr. Steiner was saying. It was a strangely comforting sight, a concrete sign of the nerdy friend she knew. Kirsten rolled her eyes at herself. She had been being ridiculous. New clothes, some weight loss, and the exploration of a continent with her mother did NOT make her best friend an entirely different person! Jo caught her staring and gave her a small smile, which Kirsten returned enthusiastically.

Now that Jo was back, everything really _was_ fine. All would go back to normal. Kirsten breathed a sigh of relief, dispelling the tiny voice that told her she was lying to herself.

* * *

><p>The rest of the class passed in a blur. When the bell rang Kirsten sprang up from her seat with energy that she hadn't felt in weeks. She shoved her books into her bag haphazardly while Joanna neatly packed up her own notebook. Kirsten couldn't stop smiling; she really was ecstatic to have her best friend back.<p>

"C'mon, let's go have lunch," Kirsten said as Jo stood. Joanna smiled.

"Lead the way," she said, and Kirsten skipped happily to the classroom door.

"We'll go find Alex and then–" She started chattering, just like old times, and realized her mistake too late. She felt Jo stop, and Kirsten looked back to apologize. But not _too_ profusely, because she was still going to make Jo talk to Alex whether she liked it or–

Joanna's face had gone ghostly pale, her eyes wide and so filled with anguish that Kirsten was struck momentarily speechless. She'd never seen _anyone_ look in so much pain. But Joanna was looking right past her and through the classroom door. Kirsten turned and followed her gaze, realizing with a start that Alex as leaning against the lockers across the hall. He was looking down, his shaggy brown hair falling in his eyes. He hadn't seen Joanna, but she'd certainly seen him.

"Jo…" Kirsten began, turning and reaching back to grab Joanna's arm. But her fingers closed on empty air, and when she whirled around to look, Joanna was gone.

* * *

><p><em>She couldn't so this.<em> Joanna _could not_ do this.

One look. One look was all it had taken to break her apart. In that one glance at him she'd seen everything. She'd come to know intimately in that instant just how she'd torn this boy apart. The hole in her chest, right where her heart beat jaggedly, ripped at her, twisting with pain that left her gasping.

The pain of seeing Kirsten again had been bad enough. It had ravaged her for a few self-destructing seconds when their gazes had met in the hall. It made very little difference that Kirsten was so quick to forgive, so quick to believe in Joanna's lies. It may have made her job easier, but it didn't diminish the pain.

Glamouring herself in the middle of school was extremely risky, but she just couldn't do it. She couldn't face him. So she turned and ran, leaving Kirsten gaping at empty air. _Kirsten will tell Alex and then there's no escaping like a coward. You have to face this; you're here to PROTECT THEM–_

She knew that. She _knew_. Joanna sank to her knees, her whole body trembling as every muscle clenched tightly. _So why was this so difficult? WHY?_ She jammed her fist in her mouth to keep from screaming, biting down hard. Hot tears burned and stung the back of her eyes, but she refused to cry.

She _would_ be strong. She _would_ protect them.

After a long, shuddering breath, she hauled herself to her feet. Shame washed over her at her weakness. She was a Shadowhunter, one of the Nephilim. _She was_ _strong_. She would _not_ run and hide.

Taking in her surroundings, Jo saw that she had run just past the edge of school property, into the trees of the forest behind the field at the back of the school. Removing the glamour, she stood tall and straight as she began walking back towards the building, already calculating what she would say to Kirsten. Probably just a watered-down version of the truth: seeing Alex had been painful, so she ran.

Kirsten's words still echoed in her head, eating away at her insides. _Well, you thought _wrong_! It's been horrible! You _killed_ him, Jo! He _loved _you! _Joanna had no idea how to make this right. But... she didn't have to make this _right_, did she? She just had to make it _work_. She was here on a mission. She had to focus, had to think.

Pushing her emotions aside, that's just what she did.


End file.
